


Three Words

by CirrusGrey



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Episode 154 spoilers, Episode Related, Five Plus One, M/M, Martin returns, passing reference to eye trauma, rating is for swears
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-22
Updated: 2019-09-22
Packaged: 2020-10-26 04:15:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20736077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CirrusGrey/pseuds/CirrusGrey
Summary: Five times Jon said I love you, and one time Martin heard him.SPOILERS FOR MAG 154!!!





	Three Words

**Author's Note:**

> Partly, but not wholly, inspired by this quote from Star Trek, The Original Series: 
> 
> _"'Let me help.' A hundred years or so from now, I believe, a famous novelist will write a classic using that theme. He'll recommend those three words even over 'I love you.'"_ ~ Captain Kirk

**1\. How are you?**

Jonathan Sims is not good at expressing his feelings. He never has been. He always gets the tone wrong, or the timing. He'd asked Georgie out in the five minutes proceeding a major final exam, using the same harried tone he'd put on to complain about how much he'd been studying. She'd probably have punched him if the professor hadn't walked into the room.

But on the rare chance he succeeds on tone and timing, he always fails to find the words. 

Martin is standing across from him, arms crossed and avoiding his eyes. There is a mess of feelings bubbling up in Jon's chest - confusion and relief and hurt and guilt and worry and something huge, something he cannot even put a name to, some overwhelming tidal wave of feeling all centered on the fact that  _ Martin is here _ \- but all he manages to say, stumbling over his words as Martin tries to leave, is "H-how are you?"

Martin gives him a surprised look and deflects the question, and Jon feels it like a physical blow. He knows how much of a lie "Everything's fine" can be. He knows how much of a dismissal it is.

"Right," he says, and "How's the poetry?" and "It was good to see you," and Martin walks away without a backwards glance, leaving him standing there with feelings all tangled up in his lungs and no words to get them out.

He stands there for a long time.

**2\. I miss you.**

He has the shape of it now. The immense  _ something _ in his chest whenever he thinks of Martin. He still doesn't know what it  _ is, _ but he knows what it  _ means. _

"I miss you." He's not sure what he expects Martin's reaction to be, but it certainly isn't  _ this. _ Not this disbelieving huff, this certainty that he's  _ lonely, _ as if there is no other reason he could have for seeking out Martin's presence. And he  _ is, _ he's lonelier than he's ever been, but that has more to do with Martin being gone than any of the others. 

There is more he needs to say, and  _ this, _ at least, Martin seems to hear. He bites his lip when Jon brings up his mother, looking away and pretending that he's fine. Jon knows it's a lie, but there's not much he can offer to make it better. He offers it anyway.

And then he messes up, again. As soon as he brings up the Archives Martin is gone, slipping past him toward the door with excuses and justifications for his actions but still, essentially, running away.

"What happened, Martin?" It slips out before he can think about it. Before he has a chance to consider if he really wants to know.

Martin looks at him like he's an idiot, like the answer should be obvious. 

"You  _ died." _

Surely that isn't all it is? Surely whatever effects that had on him - whatever hurt it caused - surely they could work past it, now, and move on?

"I came back." 

Martin nods. "Yeah. And I'm not gonna let it happen again."

And then he's gone, and Jon is left speechless and confused, standing with one hand still raised in a futile attempt to call Martin back. 

**3\. I trust you.**

Jon is... frantic. He knows this, can feel it in the way he's rambling, the way his words spill out of him in a tumbling rush, the  _ desperation _ in his own voice when he ran into this room, calling Martin's name.

Well... it's been a long time, okay? This is the first time he's seen Martin in a  _ long _ time, and he knows he's breaking his promise not to find him but he  _ needs  _ to see him. He's got a way  _ out. _

_ "Fuck _ off."

The blood drains from Martin's face, and he starts nodding, stuttering and giving a small, pained laugh. "Right. U-uh, r-right, uh- wow. Heh. Okay-"

Jon nods too, expression serious, eyes locked on Martin's face. "Yeah."

"Um, like- like permanently, or...?"

Jon stutters through an explanation, a mostly intuitive idea of what this entails. He thinks he's got the right of it, though. It...  _ feels  _ right.

Martin is shifting nervously, clearly uncomfortable with the subject. "H-have you told the others, or...?"

_ "No."  _ It comes out on a rush of breath. "Y-you're the first."

"Why?" There's an innocent curiosity to Martin's voice. It's not an accusation, though it probably should be. They deserve to know.

"Uh, because..." He's not even  _ sure  _ why. He hadn't even  _ considered  _ telling the others first. The second he realized they could get out, he just... thought of Martin. And that says something, doesn't it? "Because I- I  _ trust  _ you." 

He does. Trusts Martin with his life, trusts Martin with his weakness, trusts Martin to  _ know what to do. _ He's flailing, caught between his fear of staying and his fear of what leaving will cost, and- and he trusts Martin to help him decide. "I- I'm trying to think about what to  _ do, _ and I..." But there's more to it than that. "Well- if I  _ did  _ try this, I- I don't want to do it alone." And  _ that  _ is when his thoughts crystallize, when he realizes  _ why  _ it was Martin he ran to. He doesn't just  _ not want to do it alone. _ He doesn't want to do it without  _ Martin. _ Doesn't want to leave the Institute without Martin Blackwood by his side. And now they've got a  _ chance.  _ Hope blooms in his chest, the reality of this opportunity finally sinking in. "We could leave here. You and me.  _ Escape." _

And then Martin cuts in. "Jon... don't do this."

"Do what?"

"Make it  _ my  _ decision."

Is that what this looks like? He's not trying to- well, he can't exactly make Martin's decision  _ for  _ him, and he's not leaving without him. "I'm not-"

"No- I mean-" Martin laughs, though there's no humor in it. "Could you even  _ survive, _ at this stage? Is there anything else keeping you  _ alive?" _

"I- I don't know. I  _ don't... _ know. But-" He sighs. Martin is right, it could kill him, but... The two of them, together. No world to save, no monsters to stop. Just Jon and Martin, in whatever time they had. Even if it killed him. "Maybe it's worth it? The risk? Y-you and me? Together, getting  _ out  _ of here. One way or another."

"Jon..." Martin's voice is small and sad.

Jon sighs again. He should've expected- "No.  _ No, _ of course, this was...  _ stupid, _ you have your own plans going on, don't you?" He tries to keep the hurt from his voice, but he knows he fails.

"I just- look, I  _ need  _ to see this thing through with Peter to the end. If, if what he's saying is even  _ half  _ true,  _ I _ need to be there." There's the same determination on his face as there was when he proposed his plan to take down Elias. The same willingness to put himself in danger to save everyone else. 

"But what if you  _ don't?"  _ Jon is slipping back into desperation, now. He  _ can't- _ if Martin  _ stays, _ and gets  _ hurt- _ "I mean- we could just  _ leave. _ I mean, whatever  _ their _ plan is for me-" he gestures wildly, encompassing Peter, Elias, the Beholding,  _ everything _ with the motion. "I am damn sure that doing  _ that _ isn't it. I could derail everything,  _ we _ could derail everything and then just-" His breath stutters over the idea, over how much he wants to- _ "leave." _

Martin starts laughing, then, leaning back in his chair and giving him a bitter smile. 

"What?"

"Nothing, it's just- it's just  _ ironic, _ that's all."

He knows. Oh, he knows. The irony of the fact that it took so long for him to see what Martin meant to him, that it took the man being  _ gone  _ for him to realize- "Martin, I..."

"Who are you  _ kidding,  _ Jon?" Martin interrupts. "You're not gonna  _ do _ any of that."

That throws him for a loop. That's...  _ not  _ what he thought Martin was talking about. "I, I, I  _ could." _

"But you  _ won't. _ That's why you came to  _ me, _ isn't it?"

Jon lets out a small huff of breath, prepared to defend himself - that is most certainly  _ not  _ why he came to Martin - but Martin keeps talking, steamrollering over him, and he stands there, mouth dropping open, arms hanging loose at his sides, as Martin lays out exactly the  _ wrong  _ explanation for why Jon came to him. 

He's not- he  _ wasn't  _ looking for a way out, he- he'd leave in a heartbeat, if Martin came with him. Maybe it was foolish to think that Martin would. Call him a fool, then, because he honestly thought they'd be gone by the end of the day.

He listens as Martin goes on, tearing into him, all the little criticisms he knows he deserves for his behavior in the past. But this... this isn't that. He doesn't know why Martin can't see, why he doesn't  _ understand  _ that this is different. That Jon means it when he says - and then it hits him.

"The Lonely's really got you, hasn't it?"

Martin stares at him for a second, considering his words. "You know, I think it always did."

And  _ that  _ hurts, perhaps more than anything else Martin has said. Because- because it's not true, is it? If Jon had acted earlier, if he had been kinder, a better person... "Maybe." The word is small, and laden with guilt. 

The clock ticks in the background as he waits for Martin to say something. But he stays silent, leaving it to Jon to realize that he is no longer wanted. Martin's not going to walk away this time. This time, it's all on Jon. 

"Well..." He doesn't have anything to say. He has too much to say. "I'll be here. If you ever  _ do  _ need me."

"I hope so." Martin's voice is soft again. Jon bites his lip, looking at him with a worried frown. 

"Just don't wait too long, okay?" He puts his hand on the door, thinks about bitter laughter and cold smiles. "...If you haven't already."

And he is gone.

**4\. Let me help.**

He's standing outside the door again, heart racing in his chest. It's locked, this time, but he knows- he  _ Knows- _

"Martin!" His hand is sore from pounding on the wood. "Martin, I know you're in there! I'm not going away until you talk to me!"

There is silence from the other side, finally broken by an exasperated sigh. 

_ "What,  _ Jon? What do you want?"

His heart leaps. Martin sounds cold and distant, and he hasn't opened the door, but at least he's  _ talking.  _

"I know what's happening, okay? Or- I don't know the details, but I know it's getting close. Whatever Peter's plan is, it's happening  _ soon.  _ Yes?"

Another sigh. "So?"

"So I know it's dangerous. I know- I know you think you have to do it alone, I know you don't-" he takes a deep breath. "You don't want me around. I understand, I  _ do. _ But- but I don't want to see you get hurt, Martin. I'm not going to try to stop you, but  _ please, _ just tell me what it is you need to do. I could- Martin, please. Let me help."

He's leaning into the door, hands and forehead pressed against it as though if he pushes hard enough he'll be able to pass through to the other side. His breath is coming uneven, ragged in his throat, and he passes his tongue across dry lips when he finishes speaking. 

There's another heavy silence, and he imagines Martin on the other side of the door, lips pursed in deliberation, weighing the pros and cons of telling Jon everything. He's got to see, hasn't he? It just makes sense to bring Jon in on it. Yeah, it'll be dangerous, but if Jon's there he can take the brunt of the damage - or try to, at least - and Martin will have a better shot at getting out alive. Perhaps a better argument is he'll have a better chance  _ succeeding  _ if there's someone there to protect him - and it's not like Jon's going to suddenly make him lose all the Loneliness he needs to finish this thing. Maybe, at one point, it was a risk, but now...

Well. From all Jon's read, it takes someone you actually care about to pull you from the Lonely. It doesn't matter how they feel about you. 

He pictures Martin's face, that little furrow in his brow when he's thinking, pictures him coming to the same conclusion. It's not what Jon would have wanted, but if he can't be close to Martin, at least he can be  _ useful. _

And then Martin speaks. "I don't need help, Jon. I don't need  _ you." _

Jon- he doesn't collapse, exactly. He slides down the door like a puppet with its strings cut, turning as he falls to press his back against the wood. He pulls his knees to his chest, wrapping his arms around them and resting his forehead on top of the lot. 

He can feel his heartbeat, shuddering through his body in defiance of how much it hurts. It takes him a moment to remember how to speak.

"Okay." It comes out so quiet he doesn't know if Martin will even hear him. "Okay. I'm sorry."

There's no response from the other side of the door. After a while, Jon manages to drag himself to his feet and make a slow, painful retreat back to the Archives.

(Later, after the world is saved, after the clinging fog has risen to cover him and all is lost in mist and silence, Martin sobs.

“I'm sorry, Jon. I need you. Are you there? Help me, please. I need you.”

And Jon replies: “I’m here, Martin. It’s okay, I’ve got you. I’m here.”)

**5\. I made tea.**

The Archives are quiet. They've been quiet for weeks, now. Basira and Daisy are still here, if course, but Basira has her own plans in motion and Daisy only stayed for her sake. Melanie is long gone, braver than any of them when confronted with a knife and the knowledge of where to apply it, and free at last. 

Jon gives her empty desk a pat as he walks by on the way to his own office. She'd been smiling when she left. 

Martin turns to watch him when he opens the door, an unreadable expression on his face. He's filled Jon in on what he's been doing, and Jon has caught him up on all he's missed, and now... 

Now there are no more obligations, no more necessary information that needs to be passed on. Now there's just Jon, and Martin, and the fragile peace that exists between them.

Jon doesn't want to get his hopes up, but Martin seems... more  _ himself, _ at the moment. More open and willing to listen. More like all his attempts to push Jon away were a result of misunderstanding  _ Jon's  _ intentions, not because his own feelings have changed. And Jon thinks he's finally figured out a method of communication that will get through to him.

"I made tea."

Martin frowns. "Why?"

That throws Jon. Tea is- it's how you show someone you care, right? It's how  _ Martin  _ always showed... "I, I just thought- I mean, you've been through... a lot, recently. I thought you might appreciate something... normal. Now that you're back."

Martin's jaw tightens. "I think we've gone past the point where  _ tea  _ can help with anything."

"Oh." Jon sets the mug gingerly on the desk. "Okay, then. I, um. What can I do, then? I... I want to help."

"I don't need-" and the bitter laugh is back. Jon's heart drops. "Look, Jon, thanks for- for pulling me out of there, but I'm not- I'm not sure I  _ am  _ back, yeah? I've been gone a long time, and I- I need time to think, before I come back to the Archives. So you might not want to start acting like it's a done deal."

The breath leaves Jon's lungs in a rush, leaving him dizzy and wrong-footed. "I just thought-"

"That everything would go back to the way it was? Yeah. I think that ship sailed a long time ago."

Martin sighs, shaking his head. Jon stares at him, lost for words and feeling... empty.

"Martin-"

"Look, Jon, it's probably best if I just go, okay? I- I'll talk to you later. Right now I just need some... some time. To think through... everything." 

He's already at the door by the time Jon reacts - has already turned the handle by the time he's managed to stutter out: "W-wait!" - is already gone by the time Jon is stepping forward to hold him back.

Jon stares at the empty doorway, thoughts a formless rush of disbelief and loss. But Martin is gone. 

**+1.**

The door bangs off the wall behind him as Jon rushes out of the office. Martin has barely reached the end of the corridor; Jon throws himself forward, outpacing him and planting himself firmly between Martin and the exit. 

"Wait! Just- just wait a minute, Martin."

"Jon." Martin's tone is firm. He tries to push past. "Just let me go, okay?"

_ "No." _ There's a flash of anger in Martin's eyes at that. Jon hurries to dispel it. "Please, just wait. There's- there's something I need to say. Something I've been  _ trying  _ to say for a long time, but... but I've been going about it all wrong."

Martin crosses his arms. "I'm listening."

Jon takes a deep breath, heart doing a flip in his chest. This isn't how he wanted to do this - in desperation, in the face of anger - but he'll take what he can get. He'll take a last chance, in the hopes that it won't  _ be  _ the last. 

"M-Martin, I... I don't want you to leave. Because... Martin, I love you." 

It's like a weight has been lifted. He feels so much lighter, so  _ free,  _ with the confession finally spoken. Jon smiles, and laughs a little, giddy, repeating the words for good measure. "I  _ love  _ you."

_ "Don't." _ His smile drops, the giddiness freezing in his chest. Its definitely anger on Martin's face now, mixed with a hurt so piercing Jon can feel its echoes just by looking at him. "Don't  _ say  _ something like that, Jon! Just- just because you're scared I'll leave, doesn't mean you can- look, I get it, alright? Everyone else is gone, and you don't want to be alone, but you can't just-"

Jon opens and shuts his mouth, no words coming out. Does Martin really think he would- would  _ lie  _ about this? Just to manipulate him into staying?

"N- _ no, _ Martin, I'm not- I wouldn't-"

"Just because you're happy I'm back doesn't mean you- it doesn't mean you  _ love me, _ Jon." The anger is fading, slowly being replaced by a deep, yawning sadness. "I  _ know  _ you're- you're not good with feelings, with- but you can't just  _ say  _ that."

"You think this is just because I'm happy you're back." It's not even a question, just a monotone echo of Martin's words.

Martin answers anyway. "What else would it be, Jon? I've never- I was always just the third assistant, the one who got in the way. Sure, that's changed a lot, but... honestly, Jon, you can't really expect me to believe you."

Jon falls silent for a moment, thinking about Martin. The third assistant. But he wasn't, was he?

He thinks about how they ended up here, how Martin was unwillingly foisted upon him by a smiling Elias before the man relented and let him pick his other assistants himself.

Martin was the first of them, and he is the last. He was the beginning, and will be the end. He is both the start and finish of everything they've been through together, Jon's antagonist from early disorganized filing and his happy ending if only Martin could just  _ see- _

_ "Please, _ Martin. I know we started on rocky ground, but I need you to know. You have my heart. You- you  _ are  _ my heart. You're- everything."

Martin looks at him, unmoved. "Why? You never said  _ anything  _ like this before. Why  _ now?  _ Because I'm the only one left?"

"Yes!" The word is out before Jon can think of how it will sound.

Martin snorts. "Of course. Everyone else leaves you, so you finally,  _ finally  _ notice the one person who's been by your side the entire time." He goes to move past Jon again.

"What?" No, that's not- he has to fix this. He  _ can't  _ let Martin leave, not now, not like _ this. "No, _ Martin, it's not- I don't mean it's because everyone left, I mean it's because you  _ stayed. _ Because you've been here since the beginning, because you've seen it all and never given up on me. Because- because you trusted me when no one else could and I trusted you when no one else would. Because of, of tea, and poetry, and those soft wool sweaters you always wear and the way you look when you're trying to hide a smile." The words spill free, a torrent set loose, and now that he's started Jon couldn't hold them back if he tried. "Because you stopped me from coming back to work early after the Prentiss attack, and for some reason I listened. Because you wanted to get lunch with me even in the depths of my paranoia, when no one else could even stand to be in a room with me, and because when I thought you might have killed Gertrude I was scared. Not that you might be trying to kill me, but that I was going to lose the first true friend I had made in far too long." Jon steps forward while he talks, moving to stand mere inches from Martin. Martin's eyes search his face, something raw and painful beginning to show through his expression. "Because when I ran from the Institute, you were the first person I wanted to run to, and the only reason I didn't was because I knew the police would follow. Because when I came back you were the only person I wanted to see, because I  _ still  _ haven't forgotten the expression on your face when Daisy and Basira dragged me back to the Archives, nor the feeling of your arms wrapped around me when we finally got a moment alone. Because it was  _ you  _ I was going to talk to when Georgie said I needed an anchor, because I spent a month surrounded by the Stranger's creatures and yours was the only familiar face I wanted to see, because I called you  _ every  _ night I had access to a phone when I was in China and America and you  _ always  _ picked up, no matter how late it was back home. Because when I left for the Unknowing, I was more scared for you than for myself, and because when I finally woke up it was your face I expected to see. Because these last few months have been  _ hell,  _ Martin, and not just because of what I'm becoming. Because-" Jon's breath catches. He lifts his hands, grabs Martin by the shoulders. "Because you're Martin Blackwood, and I've never known anyone like you."

Martin's breath is uneven. He blinks rapidly, raising a hand to dash away the tears that are forming. "Jon..."

"I  _ love  _ you, Martin. I don't expect anything in return - god knows I haven't earned it - but I need you to  _ understand  _ that."

Martin gives a small, disbelieving laugh. "Nothing in return?  _ God, _ Jon - and you say  _ I'm  _ being oblivious." 

Jon frowns, shakes his head. His grip on Martin's shoulders slackens. "What do you-"

And then Martin's hands are on his face, and he is being pulled down into a kiss. Martin's lips press against his, hard and desperate, and it isn't a good kiss but Jon still returns it with everything he has, dropping his hands to Martin's collar to draw him closer. 

They are both breathing hard when they finally separate, and there is a fierceness in Martin's face that rivals his anger from before. 

"I love you. Okay? Don't you ever go doubting it. I've loved you for  _ years,  _ and I'm not about to stop now."

The air leaves Jon's lungs in a breathy laugh. He presses his forehead against Martin's, raising his hands to cradle the back of his head, running his fingers through his hair. 

"Good to know. You believe me, then?"

Martin huffs, eyes fluttering shut. "Yeah. I believe you. Sorry- sorry I wasn't listening. Before. I should have seen- I should have known what you were trying to say."

"No. I should have been clearer, I just..." Jon sighs, letting it go. "Will you stay? Now that you know. Please. Stay with me."

Martin nods slightly, eyes still closed. One thumb runs along Jon's cheek, a gentle, almost unconscious caress. "Yeah. I'll stay."

The tension leaves Jon in a rush. He shifts, wrapping his arms around Martin in a tight hug. Martin makes a surprised sound, stiffening for a second before leaning into the embrace, his own arms encircling Jon in turn. 

"Thank you." Jon whispers it, so soft that if he were any farther away Martin wouldn't be able to hear him. As it is, the only indication that Martin  _ has  _ heard him is a tightening of his arms.

It is a long time before they move, and longer still before they speak. When they do, it is in hushed murmurs exchanged over tea, as though an excess of noise will shatter whatever small hope exists in such breathless confessions. But speak they do, and laugh, and smile, and reminisce over things long past, and dream about the future. They still live in a dark world - they still serve a dark god - the choices they face are still the kind that any sane person would balk at even considering - but they have each other, now. 

It is enough.

**Author's Note:**

> I want y'all to know that this was down in my drafts with "I trust you" as the third step _before_ it became canon.


End file.
